Here’s a question for you.
Now, I grew up thinking failures are bad things to be avoided. They’re nothing more than mistakes, and everyone knows mistakes are bad. Right? Of course, mistakes and failures are things any sane person avoids whenever humanly possible. And when we do experience them, we certainly want as few people as possible to know about it, don’t we?
(Hopefully, at this point you’re adamantly disagreeing with me.)
When asked that opening question recently the first thing that popped into my head was, “Lose weight.” My second thought was, “Why in the world would I think that?” My current attempt at weight loss isn’t what most would call a success. The number on the scale? Still not going down. So, why is that okay with me now when too often I’ve lived by the following equation?
Failed attempts = discouragement and demoralization
How about an analogy to answer that?
Here’s my system for putting together a complicated jigsaw puzzle. I’ll bet it’s pretty similar to yours.
1 – Assemble the edges
2 – Put together middle pieces that are obvious and easy.
3 – Choose a section to work on and do as much of that as possible.
4 – Repeat Step 3 as much as called for.
5 – Struggle with the more challenging pieces.
6 – Admire the completed edges and long for the time when things went together so simply.
7 – Wish the middle was as easy as the edges and question whether I even want to finish the dumb puzzle or not. I mean, who has time for jigsaw puzzles, anyway?
8 – Take a ridiculous amount of pride in placing a piece I’ve been fighting with for some time.
9 – Feel like I’ve witnessed a miracle when I notice two of my completed sections actually fit together.
10 – Experience a certain kind of euphoria when things start coming all together.
11 – Sigh with deep contentment as the last piece clicks into place.
So, let’s say the edges of the puzzle represent our “outer edges,” the parts of us people can see, and the inner pieces of the puzzle are our inner, unseen pieces.
Whenever we’re working on ourselves, it’s tempting to work on our edges first, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s encouraging and can be a great way to start. The danger comes in when we hit steps 5-7. If our edges are all done, and portions of our inners are put together, it’s easy to quit. Will anyone even notice whether we finish? In my past weight loss “successes” this is where I stopped, not even fully realizing I had so many inner pieces left unassembled.
This time, though, I decided to start with my inner pieces. I knew it would take a lot longer, probably be more frustrating, and definitely take more perseverance, but I would be okay with that. Even though, as of this writing, my “edges” still aren’t assembled, I can see and feel all the profound changes I’ve made on the inside. I’m grateful for each new habit I’ve developed, each new healthy thought I have, and the exposure to new ideas and practices I continue to have.
I surprised myself when “lose weight” was my automatic response to the question of what I’d be glad I had done even if I failed. I realize now that I’m so grateful for all I’ve learned, and continue to learn, on this journey that even if I never “get every piece of my puzzle in place,” (which many would interpret as failure) I’ll still be changed in so many meaningful ways that it’ll be worth it.
And guess what?
This applies to a whole lot more than weight loss. (I’ll bet you already figured that out.)
Hunh. Look at us living the wisdom in the old saying,
So, let me ask you again, what would you be glad you did, even if you failed?